


another time, another place

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Office Workers AU, get your christmas spirit on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: Felix can't figure out why Annette says he's evil -- and it's especially hard to figure out when she keeps running away!
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30
Collections: Netteflix Secret Seteth 2020





	another time, another place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starrymatcha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrymatcha/gifts).



> hello i am late for the christmas season.
> 
> this is for our beloved **Tori** — one of the requests was for office worker felannie, and so this is what I have to offer! i am very sorry how late i am for fulfilling the [secret seteth](https://www.twitter.com/nttflx_exchange)!

“ _Felix!_ ”

At the sound of her incriminating voice, the hair on the back of said person’s neck stands straight up.

Is that— Annette? What the hell can she be—

But his thoughts are interrupted at the sound of small footsteps he can hear through the thin partition, coming towards to the open corner of his cubicle. The footsteps stop then, just behind him, and he senses a set of laser eyes at his back, a feeling that reminds him of an incoming storm.

He swallows thickly, then swivels around in his chair to face her.

“Annette,” he greets coolly.

As he expects, Annette looks angry.

What he doesn’t expect however, is how _cute_ she looks.

She glares back at him with furrowed eyebrows and a pinched frown. Her orange hair is slightly frazzled, from either the general busy-ness of the morning… or from keeping the Santa hat from falling off her head.

In fact, she’s still dressed in Christmas spirit, even with Christmas come and gone over the last weekend. Her work shirt is red like mistletoe, and there’s a pinned candy cane on the right side of her chest. Her fingernails don’t take a break either — a pearly white sheen over them, save the fourth fingers that both brandish a scarlet lacquer.

She looks good in red, he thinks, and he pulls his eyes upwards to meet hers.

Almost as soon as he does that, she blinks twice and looks away, crossing her arms tighter and leaning even harder into the frame of the partition.

“Felix,” she replies, in a quiet voice. She composes herself with a breath and then gives him a tense smile. “Hi.”

He squints. “Weren’t you... angry?”

A spark flickers in her eyes then, and she breaks her composure. “I still am!” she hisses, leaning in. The white pom-pom atop her Santa hat falls over her eyes, and she hastily flips it back over her head. “I am _very upset_ with you.”

Felix is very confused. For many reasons. Maybe it’s how she simultaneously acts angry but also calm, or maybe it’s how she simultaneously looks alarmingly threatening but also _terribly adorable_.

“Well, what did _I_ do?” he retorts.

Her eyes widen at his raised voice, and she looks to the left and right before replying in the same raised whisper. “You know _exactly_ what you did!”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Actually, I don’t.”

“Shh!” she urges him, stepping fully into his cubicle. “Don’t talk so loud!”

“I’m just talking normal,” he defends. “And weren’t you the one that called my name out loud across the entire company floor!”

She waves her hands, coming close to quiet him. “Okay, okay! Just stop!” she says, perching both of her hands onto the armrests of his chair.

“Stop _what_?” he challenges, leaning in.

As his face nears his, her cheeks puff up and her eyes widen even more. She steps back from him. “W-We can’t talk about this here!”

“About what?”

“ _Later!_ ” she hisses, then turns to step away.

Instinctively, he rolls forward with his chair with a push of his foot, catching her wrist.

“About _what_?” he insists again.

She looks down at his hand, then takes a deep breath, her face matching the shade of her shirt. She pulls her hand back from him.

“N-nothing! Another time!” she demands, then sprints out of his cubicle. He hears her leave exactly as the way she arrived — a scurry of small footsteps through the cubicle partition.

What the hell was that all about?

He scoffs, turning back to his desk, staring at his computer screen, where his email inbox has grown by two unread messages since he last looked.

All that fuss of her being angry — and for what?

…

The Fraldarius family was not big on celebrating holidays, so Felix doesn’t find it hard to carry on work the Monday after the long Christmas weekend. Everyone else, however, seemed to be in a perpetual state of holiday, simply waiting for the upcoming new year or still recollecting Saturday night’s company holiday party.

And yet, for as non-holiday-oriented Felix is, he still finds it very hard to concentrate on fulfilling the unending company requests today.

Why the hell is Annette angry with him?

Is it about that time after Thanksgiving he gave her that entire extra cake Lysithea sent over to his home from her bakery? Maybe Annette didn’t like the cake? But that’s impossible — if Felix knows anything about Annette, it’s that she loves sweets, and _especially_ cakes.

Or maybe this is about the time he helped her file through old company paperwork? Maybe she didn’t like that he just walked in without asking her if she needed help? Annette is a pretty independent person, and a hard worker at that. Maybe she didn’t want his help at all.

Or perhaps this is all about that one time he decided to sit with her during lunch? He really only decided to sit with her since she looked rather lonely sitting by herself. Then again, she usually sits with Mercedes for lunch, so maybe that day she purposefully sat alone to make space for herself?

He sighs, his eyes flitting back to the time display at the bottom corner of his computer. It’s been yet another hour, with the end of the afternoon nowhere in sight, and he’s barely a dent in any of these tasks.

He’s also dead tired, he suddenly realizes. He looks at his coffee mug, then tilts it back to take a sip, but only receives one cold drop of black coffee.

At this, Felix stands, his feet instinctually making their way to the company kitchenette. As he approaches, his ears perk up, tickling as he hears a familiar voice humming a song.

He stops, listening — he knows that voice anywhere. It’s Annette, and she’s humming a Christmas tune — _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ , to be exact.

He stands just around the door for a moment, enjoying her singing, but then thinks to himself. This is it. This was his chance to ask her why the hell she’s mad at him.

He waits for the next chorus of the song to pass, then steps into the kitchenette. “Annette,” he greets.

She visibly jumps, a sugar packet spilling all over the counter — rather than into her cup of tea.

“F-Felix!” she yelps, whirling around.

He steps further in, starting before she says another word. “Okay. What did I do?”

She furrows her eyes, a flush climbing over her cheeks.

“ _What did you do?_ ” she asks back, indignantly. “You just _creeped_ on me and _scared_ me and you’re asking _me_ what you did??”

“No, no,” he corrects. “I meant about what you—" But then he interrupts himself, seeing the two halves of the sugar packet still between her fingers. “Sorry about this. I’ll take care of it,” he apologizes. He steps around her, raising a hand to wipe down the sugar from the counter, but she steps in front of him, blocking him.

“It’s fine! I’ll take care of it myself!” she retorts. “What do you want?”

“Just answer my question!”

She squints at him. “What question? You didn’t even ask!”

“No, about before—” He interrupts himself again, quickly realizing they’re going to talk in circles if he isn’t clear. “What did I do? What were you so mad about this morning? When you came into my cubicle?”

Her eyebrows furrow and she turns away from him, facing the counter. She rips a paper towel off the roll and dampens it under the faucet. “I already told you!” she answers. “We can’t talk about this here!”

“Why not?”

“We just can’t!” she replies, her head whipping back to shoot a pointed glare at him. “If you _really_ can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you later — just not here and _not now_!”

“Why not? Why can’t you just answer my question now?”

“Why do you want to know _now_ , anyway?” she quips, wiping down the counter. “It’s not that important! We can talk about this later!”

“I don’t care if it’s not important,” he says. “I just… I can’t focus when you’re on my mind,” he admits.

At this, he sees her take a sharp breath.

“Wh-What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” she squeaks, scrubbing the counter even more vigorously. “It’s not _my_ fault you’re thinking about me!”

Okay, well now, _he’s_ starting to feel a little embarrassed, feeling a heat rise to his face. “I-I didn’t mean it like that! I just want to know why you’re mad at me!”

“Y-You’re evil!” she replies, evidently not willing to divulge him the details.

Felix decidedly stands there, refusing to let the question go. Annette continues to ignore him, resuming her cleaning.

After a few more seconds, neither of them say another word, at a standstill. The counter is definitely clear by now, and Annette lifts the paper towel from the surface, turning to toss it into the trash. She very intentionally steps around him to do this, giving him a cursory frown.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“No!” she affirms. She turns back to the counter and reaches for another sugar packet to resume her tea-making.

Unfortunately for Felix, the coffee machine is directly behind her. He angrily looks down into his mug, a thin ring of dried coffee forming at the bottom of it.

“Fine. Another time then,” he says, leaving without another word.

What could she _possibly_ be so angry about?

…

Without coffee and without any answers, the remainder of Felix’s day doesn’t go well at all. He practically storms out of the office once he concludes the last of his tasks for the day. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, he takes the stairs down to the parking lot, angrily swinging the exit-only door wide open and making a beeline for his car.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small figure with a Santa hat bundled up in a large dark blue parka — Annette.

He glances in that direction, seeing her approach a car. Her car is exactly as he expects her car to be: a small sedan that looks to be on its last miles.

Well now this is his chance to ask her, isn’t it? If she said ‘not here’ in the company building, then where the hell else did she mean? It’s not like he’s going to see her anywhere else outside of work, and it’s not like he’s ever going to let this go.

He quickly strides over to her car, seeing her place her handbag down on the passenger seat. She shuts the car door, and just as she turns around — 

“Is here okay?” he asks.

“Wha—” Annette whirls around with a startle, but suddenly slips on a patch of ice under her feet.

Quickly, Felix steps forward to catch her, grabbing her by the waist. She fits neatly into her arms, tumbling hands-first into his chest. He hears a small ‘oof’ from her as she collapses into him.

“Felix!” she yelps, then wrestling out of his grip. Resisting her, he holds onto her forearms for a little bit longer to make sure she’s stable on her feet. She wobbles a little, then pulls away from him and straightens her back to face him. “You made me slip!”

“At least you didn’t fall,” he replies, unamused.

He’s not having it. He’s already tired from not having his second cup of coffee, and he’s extra tired from chasing Annette trying to figure out why the hell she’s mad at him.

“Well, I _wouldn’t_ have slipped if you hadn’t scared me in the first place!” she retorts. And then as if suddenly remembering from earlier in the day, she adds, “And this is the _second_ time you’ve scared me! You’re _creeping_ on me!”

“No, I’m—“ But Felix knows he can’t just say that he’s not creeping on her because she’s right, he is. But he’s doing so with purpose. “Yes, I am but—"

“ _Why?_ ”

“I was just about to tell you!” he replies. “I wanted to ask why you were mad at me!”

“Is it not obvious?” she asks back, tone rising.

“No!” he replies, lifting his voice as well. “No, it isn’t!” 

She stares at him, holding her breath, and looking at him in disbelief. She takes another moment’s pause, then finally says, “You made me _sing_! At the company mixer on Saturday night! In front of _everyone_!”

Is that… Is that really it?

He looks incredulously at her. “What’s so wrong about that?”

“ _I don’t sing!_ ” she squeaks.

This confuses him even more. “Yes?” he retorts, questioningly. “Yes, you do! And even earlier today before I saw you in the kitchenette, you were humming!”

“I don’t sing in public!” she corrects adamantly. “And you weren’t supposed to hear that!”

Felix isn’t sure how to tell Annette that her singing is actually quite audible — whether or not she wants anyone else to hear it.

“You made me sing in front of _everyone_!” she continues. “In fact, you _volunteered me_ for the next karaoke song! I can’t believe you! You’re so evil!”

“What? I thought you liked singing! You’re always doing it anyway.”

“Well, _yes_ , but I don’t do it _in front of other people_! How clear do I have to be?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “Why not? You sing well.”

She pauses at the compliment, blinking rapidly a few times as she crosses her arms. “S-Stop talking about my singing! I don’t care what you think about my singing, you liar!” she shouts. She tilts her head downward, squeezing her arms tighter together.

“I’m not lying,” he tells her. “I think you sing really well.”

Annette says nothing to this, although he can see her pout. He also sees her shiver, and instinctively takes the scarf around his neck and drapes it over her neck.

She startles as he does this, practically jumping back from him as he does this.

“Wha-What are you doing?” she sputters, looking absolutely befuddled.

“You’re cold,” he explains matter-of-factly. “See? You look warmer already,” he tells her, nodding at the color returning to her cheeks.

“Th-Thank you,” she says, albeit with a stubborn frown. He sees her gently run her hands over the soft fabric. “It’s very warm,” she remarks then, mollified, but then she suddenly seems to recall what their previous topic of conversation was. Her eyes snap up angrily to meet his again. “This changes nothing! I’m still mad at you!”

“I—” he starts before noticing another shiver from her. “You know what? We’ll talk about this later.”

“What do you mean? You’re the one that stopped me to talk here in the first place! Why not now?”

Hearing the same question — this time from Annette — makes him chuckle. He holds his laugh back, although he can’t help the smirk that curls over his lips.

“It’s not that important,” he says, quoting her from earlier that day. “We can talk about this later.”

“ _Felix!_ ” she yells, seeing him step away.

“You’re cold,” he simply explains. “We’ll talk later.”

“I’m _not_ cold!” she refutes.

And as if to prove her point, she starts to pull his scarf off from her neck, holding it out for him to take back. But Felix refuses, putting another few steps between them.

“I’m _still_ mad at you!” she shouts.

He says nothing to this and only breaks a smile as he climbs into his car. As he pulls over the seatbelt over his chest, he looks in the direction of Annette’s car. He can see that she’s flipped down the visor, readjusting his scarf over her neck. He thinks he sees her duck her nose into the scarf, as if smelling it.

He bites back a wider smile, then wonders when he’s going to ask for his scarf back.

It’s not that important, he thinks to himself.

Another time then.

**Author's Note:**

> you know where to find me: [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/napsbeforesleep)


End file.
